Life Lines
by scully-hearts-roslin
Summary: A/R included and not exactly with a happy ending, this is a story about Laura Roslin's life before and after the Cylon attacks - written before we learned a little more about her background and thus AU.


**Disclaimer:** BSG might not be mine, but my heart belongs to Laura and she occupies my brain. This is A/R but very Laura-centric and was written before we knew a little more about Laura's background (thus now AU). Most of this story is from her pov. This story is not a happy one - I hope you'll enjoy it anyhoo.

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**Life Lines**

Solitude.

It had always been a great part of her life.

Solitude and silence.

She gained strength from it like few people did. And she enjoyed the confrontation with her past and present.

Reflection. Confessions. Honesty. It all had a cleansing effect on her.

She had often been alone as a child – never lonely though. She had enjoyed the company of others, but she had also hidden from too much fuss. She had always enjoyed the chance to get away from it all and think.

When she was five years old, she was already a little mystery to her school mates. Liked, but mysterious nonetheless. Sitting in a corner during recess on one day, observing her friends playing a game she disliked, then the center of attention hours later. Laura did as she pleased, and she had always been herself.

As she grew older, she fled into the world of books. A book a night was what she loved to read – mysteries addressing the chemistry of her brain the older she got.

It was never that she sought to escape reality, rather that she sought additional stimulation for a mind that would never stop working. She was a constant thinker, musing about everything, especially herself. Observing others was something she continued to enjoy – learning from their mistakes was something she soon found to be a gift.

As a teenager, Laura hadn't felt like herself for all too long. Set apart was how she felt – and in contrast to her craving for solitude, she felt strangely isolated from time to time. Something her friends would never have expected her to feel.

Calm at school but a whirlwind at home, she was growing into the woman she had never dared hope to be.

At 22 she left her home, ready to face a world that held promises for her she thought. College behind her, grad school ahead, she was ready to enter a new phase in her life.

Boys were never a great distraction for her, and she decided to live on her own before she wanted to marry. The idea of a family was in the back of her head, but she knew how independence ruled her life more than any commitment to another person ever had.

She was 30 when she met him.

Richard.

Not exactly her immediate type but smart and gentle. Something she had found to appreciate in men. He respected her. He flirted with her. He was the first person in her life to challenge her principles.

It wasn't long before his charm had made her forget her morals – and it took her the entirety of a career to get away from him again.

Not that she would have lost herself in him – she now knew that it was different than love. It was obsession and lust. Basic emotions – nothing beyond that.

It had been easy, having an affair. As a smart woman, a declared feminist, she would never have expected herself to see it that way. But it was as simple as that.

He desired her – her body, the independence of her spirit, her straightforwardness with him.

She admired his drive, his ideals and the image he had of her. It was a reflection of herself that was as inaccurate as their relationship was honest, but it was right for her at the time.

When her mother needed her help, Laura was 37. She was there – no questions asked. It was three years that she looked after her mother. Three years and 2 months.

It was good to be with Richard in that time. She didn't have to offer a commitment and he didn't ask. It was the perfect match.

When her mother had died – _finally_, she had to admit – she descended into loneliness for some months. She had shut down her emotions to a level of rawness that was painful, and she wasn't able to deal with anything but her own misery.

She had learned to swallow a lot of pain – and she had bitten back too many tears over her mother's struggle. It was time for her to be selfish.

That phase didn't last long.

Richard decided to run for President and asked her to support his campaign as his designated Secretary of Education.

She felt overwhelmed – she felt proud – she was scared. She had never sought influential positions – being a teacher was the perfect job for her she had found. But Richard had always managed to be all too persuasive to her – convincing her to quit teaching for politics in the first place, and then entering the Colonial arena.

She was entranced throughout most of his campaign – the death of her mother overshadowing her life until she was thrown into office. Once she was appointed to her position, she filled it with all of her soul. Education – she would try her best to improve it throughout the Colonies.

When the pain came to her for the first time, she was 46. She knew what it was, no diagnosis needed. It went away again for a while.

Another year later, she cried over a knot in her left breast – she almost collapsed in the shower when her hands found it by accident.

When she saw the doctor she was numb. Her mind shut out everything else that he said, _positive_ was all that she heard and cared about. She prepared herself to die. The struggle of her mother still vivid in her head, she knew that she wanted to cling to her dignity as long as she possibly could. And she knew that now was the time to make some drastic changes.

When she entered his office after her doctor's appointment, she knew that he would pull her into a kiss. He always did – but it had started to annoy her. She cared for him, still – but she also knew that he would not hold her hand through treatments and pain.

His threat to push her out of office, his angry plea for her to resign, was what made it so easy for her to leave. It was also something she carried with her after she had heard the news about the destruction of their home worlds.

She had shared so much of her life with him and now he had died on the day she had learned about her lethal illness. Funny somehow, if it wasn't so sad.

Who could've known that the apocalypse would be a journey rather than the end?

Who would've expected her to be the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol (or whatever was left of it)? No one, she had to admit – least of all herself.

She had accepted the responsibilities that were put onto her shoulders of course. She was committed like that – and she believed in the articles of Colonization. And after the first wave of shock and denial, she even embraced the thought of this Presidency being her chance to serve the greater good.

It was days until she was allowed to enjoy some precious moments of solitude again. And she had never needed it more than now.

Her home gone, her mind challenged, her life limited. She cried.

Her tears were silent, for she didn't want anybody to hear her sob – if she had learned one thing from Richard, it was to be a strong leader in times of crises. So she bit her lip and allowed the tears to drop onto her blanket - no sound ever escaped her throat. It was a talent she would use ever so often in the first 6 months of her new life.

When the realities of her new life stopped scaring her, she found herself confronted with military business and people who were just as lost as she was. What could've been relieving was annoying her more than anything else, and she tried to fight the feeling of numbness and renewed fear.

She struggled to find a way to work with Commander Adama – an awfully stubborn man, and someone, she was sure of it, who had never fought for feminist ideals. His son was more approachable, she found, but almost as thickheaded as his senior model, and her assistant was becoming more of a son to her than was probably wise.

It was the Chamalla that changed things for her and the involuntary discussion she had with that audacious military doctor on Galactica before she finally got it.

Visions overcoming her, fogging her mind and keeping her on her feet. Political realities changing faster than ever before. A school teacher on her first day on the job and a religious leader on the next – it felt as fast as that.

When she submitted to the military coup Adama had pulled against her, she hoped that he would be reasonable enough to release her from the brig as soon as he saw her in it.

She was mistaken.

Their agreement broken, he saw her as a traitor –on a more personal level than she could ever have imagined. And it was unfortunate for him to get shot the moment she was pacing around in one of Galactica's brigs.

The feeling of shock and pain surprised her when she heard the news of his critical condition. Her mind was racing, and she found herself not only thinking about what this might mean for the fleet or her Presidency, but also what this meant to her personally.

When she saw him in sickbay, her mind was fogged by sadness – and it only got worse when she ran out of Chamalla. Visions got blurry, reality dissolved around her. Memories became real, plotlines from all too many books she had read merged with what had really happened in her life. The pain in her chest challenged the pounding of her head – shrieking voices all around her, ringing sounds perpetual in her ears. Withdrawal.

After she had fled the brig and lost a friend, she was glad to see his grumpy old face again. Kobol – she would never have believed in the existence of this place before the Colonies were nuked.

She was sitting with him on a blanket, so close she wished to touch him – that's how relieved she was. A smile on his face, a joke on his behalf, laughter overcoming her – reconciliation.

When they found the tomb of Athena, relief overcame her again – both at finding the tomb and at the certainty that he believed her now. His lie and her visions had merged into the truth of a legend – Earth.

Laura still didn't know how it had happened, but something had changed.

Yes, he had danced with her on Colonial Day and she had felt as giddy as a girl in junior high when he had moved with her over the dancefloor – but they had never been so intimate. She hadn't even noticed that they were until Admiral Cain interrupted their little game of familiarity and banter.

Her arrival had both been relieving and alarming. And Laura was uncomfortable with the level of rejection and disrespect she was treated with from the Admiral's side. So she meant it when she told Bill to kill his commanding officer. She knew that woman was a threat – and while Bill thought that she had become bloody-minded, Laura had only adapted to the realities of life after the apocalypse.

She was glad that Bill didn't have to kill her however – the pacifist in her was at peace. Throwing Cylons out of airlocks was a necessity at times, suggesting that Adama kill a fellow human, however, had been harder on her than she would ever admit to herself.

It was soon after that her health deteriorated.

Doctor Cottle's diagnosis was as grim as she was able to cope with, and she swallowed all the emotions of panic and despair that threatened to overwhelm her.

It was one of the few times in her life that she avoided being alone. Billy, the son she now felt was sent to her from the Gods, and Bill – both allowing her to let go. She felt appreciated, loved even – cherished. And it was a feeling of comfort and gratitude.

When Bill kissed her over his promotion, she was shocked to find her heart longing for his touch. Hardly able to keep her eyes open and unable to walk without Billy's assistance, she still felt her heart jump at the feeling of his tender lips against hers. How she wished she could've brought up enough energy to prolong that kiss.

_You get a second chance_ – if he had told her so before, she would've laughed. And she struggled with her survival long after she should've died.

Still uncertain about the meaning of her epiphanies, she tried to erase the memories of her own death and bit her lip once more. The election lost to her soon after she had won an impossible fight against her own mortality left her devastated and exhausted.

She knew that New Caprica would be a catastrophe, and she cried another silent tear when the Cylons came to occupy the new promised land, blocking the feeling of pain when she learned about the fleet having jumped away.

In detention she got to know another side of her modesty – and another level of pain. Working for the resistance, she found yet another side of her unscrupulousness.

When she faced her own death a second time within a few months, she almost laughed. When she heard the news of Galactica coming to rescue them after all again, she released a sound of relief that came right from her soul.

Seeing him again, after almost a year, was like the icing on the cake. Bill.

Laura had long given up on counting on anything since the Cylon attacks, but she had known that he would try to come back for them for good.

She smiled when they met again for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. And that smile matched the one that was spread all over her face when she took the vows to be President once more.

New Caprica had changed her – and she found herself on a quest to seek revenge from Baltar after he was returned to them from the Cylons. It was Bill who kept her emotions in balance. While they had struggled in situations, she had often been the dove to his hawk – it had now changed entirely.

The trial, affecting her more than she had ever dared to believe, was overshadowed by the renewed diagnosis of cancer for her and what she felt was a betrayal from Lee Adama in court. She was devastated to find out about Bill's vote for Baltar's acquittal, disappointed even – but whatever her mind told her to cling to, her heart told her otherwise.

She knew that he cared – and she knew that he addressed her when he insisted that life had to go on. He was right – even though she would never openly admit that.

What let him off the hook was his commitment to her. His love.

She knew that he loved her by now – it had all started on New Caprica, but it was the feeling of personal trust he was proving to have for her since the reunion of the fleet that swept her off her feet.

She would never forget the tears in his eyes when she told him that her cancer had returned. And the level of care and the amount of tenderness he had showered her with since destroyed the urge for solitude and silence.

She was falling into him – and falling into what he wanted them to be. She tried to fight the intensity of her feelings for him, but it seemed as if her soul had decided to connect with his despite her own doubts.

And although she knew that she would always crave independence, she also knew that Bill was the only person in her life who would allow her to embrace the solitude of togetherness – something that was just as important to him as it was to her.

"What are you thinking about?" Bill whispered to her when he placed a soft kiss onto her forehead.

Laura blinked at him, startled out of her thoughts. "Oh, nothing in particular." A smile. "Life."

His smile was answer enough for her – he understood.

"Did you have dinner already?" He poured himself a glass of Ambrosia for himself and sat down next to her on the couch.

"Wasn't hungry." She took a sip from his glass in his hand.

"You should eat, you know." He teased her.

"Yes, doctor." She joined his game.

"Let's see what's on the menu for today." Bill made a face. "Pasta d'Algae. Just because they keep changing the name, doesn't make it taste better."

Laura giggled. "See, not hungry."

She snuggled closer to him on the couch, a ritual they had started to embrace after she had told him about her diagnosis a couple of weeks back. Bill usually put his arm around her shoulders and enjoyed the feeling of her hair tickling the sensitive skin of his neck.

Something was different though today. The melancholy expression on her face when he'd come home, the depth of her thoughts she had been lost in – she oozed vulnerability.

"Are you alright?" His voice was calm and full of care.

His arm slipped around her waist and he felt how she eased into his touch.

"I'm fine." She enjoyed the feeling of his hand caressing her softly through the thin material of her blouse. "Really."

They sat like that for a while. Her head resting against his shoulder, his hand finding a comfortable position in the crook of her waist.

He felt how her head slid down an inch and her arm moved around his stomach. He stiffened a little when one of her legs entangled with his as she drifted off to sleep, but he also enjoyed the sensation.

For the first time in weeks, Laura wasn't haunted by visions after she closed her eyes. She dreamed – and whatever plot her mind was trying to sell to her, the only detail that mattered to her was the presence of him.

It was about half an hour later that Laura woke again – the feeling of his heaving chest comfortable against her skin and her hand dangling on one of his legs. She smiled.

"Welcome back," he mumbled, his eyes still closed as he felt her moving in his embrace.

"Sorry to wake you," she answered him with a whisper against his skin. Trying to move away, she felt his grip tightening around her waist and his other arm moving her leg back to where it had been for the past 31 minutes.

"Where do you think you are going?" His voice was raw and deep.

Laura giggled, blushing a little at the feeling of arousal that jolted through her when she brushed his upper thighs with her hand.

A sigh.

She would have to lie to herself if she denied the feeling of comfort that nestled in her heart when they snuggled up like that. Not that they had ever been so close before.

She smiled to herself.

Well, of course they had been that close before. On New Caprica – but not even _that_ close. It was a memory she was very fond of and had often thought of in detention.

"Thinking about something good?" He interrupted her train of thought.

"Yes." Her answer was as scanty as her smile was wide.

"New Caprica?"

She was stunned. "How do you know?"

"Oh, just a feeling." He opened his eyes. "Much more comfortable on a couch, don't you think?"

Losing herself in his cobalt blue, she forgot to nod and felt the touch of his lips on hers as an answer instead. Bill, equally surprised as she was, captured her mouth with a passionate kiss that startled them both.

Pulling back from him, Laura kept her eyes closed for another beat before she looked into his eyes again – her indecision evident in her darkening green.

"What..." Her voice was lost to her, her face still inches away from his face.

"What do you want, Laura?" He studied her face with a newfound lust in his stare.

Not moving away from his embrace, Laura tried to calm her mind that screamed at her to reconsider the step she was about to make.

"I want to live." A tear threatened to crawl down her cheeks.

Bill, holding close to his heart, placed another kiss onto her hair – a kiss filled with promises and concern. "What did Cottle say today?"

She shook her head and almost climbed on top of him, trying to hide away from the world in his arms.

Bill, unprepared to see her fragile like that, suppressed his own tears and met her lips for another kiss – deep and gentle, breathing into her what she was asking for, life.

They sat for another moment until Bill got up to raise her in his arms. Carrying her over to his rack he whispered, "you are spending the night, Madam President."

He lay her down on his mattress and sat next to her to make a quick call. Informing Tory Foster about his plan, he hung up on her words of protest and rested next to Laura's fragile form.

"Thank you." Her voice was soft.

"You are welcome." His kiss sealed his promise to let her sleep.

The following morning came too fast – another prophetic dream waking her from an otherwise rejuvenating night. Hera again – Cylons, destruction and death. Earth.

She gasped.

Drenched in sweat, she found herself in his pajama top.

His thumb caressed her cheeks, calming her down a little. "Bad dream?"

Processing her vision and the morning situation she found herself in, she merely gazed at him in confusion.

"You spent the night, Laura. Your assistant knows." His voice was rough with sleep. "I figured you wanted to wear your suit again today, so I changed you into something comfortable."

Laura blinked. She would've been furious at anybody else but him for doing this. Looking into his eyes, she knew that he would never take advantage of her.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" He wiped away a curl of her hair from her face.

Laura shook her head. "What I want is honesty and trust."

He nodded after a beat.

"Commitment," she added in a whisper.

"Love." He placed a soft kiss onto her lips.

"I want this..." She pulled away from his kiss. "I want this to last."

Another nod – and a sparkle in his eyes.

Was that hope?

"I won't give up who I am."

"I'm not asking you to," he whispered, understanding mirroring her need for it.

"I will make my own decisions."

He smiled.

"I may seek your advice though."

"Laura," he interrupted her gently. "Just let me love you as before."

She gasped again.

"The Diloxin makes me so tired."

He swallowed the pain. "I know."

"And the Chamalla interferes with the aggressiveness of the radiotherapy."

He gathered her in his arms again, trying to be strong for both of them.

"Cottle doesn't know. Last week everything looked fine and this week it looks grim." She closed her eyes. "He cannot hide it from me, you know. He's too frakking concerned for a doctor his age."

Bill smiled again. It was a sad smile, but he couldn't help it.

"I will be moody." She sighed. "I already am. I will be difficult." She paused, his tightening embrace reassurance enough for her. "There will be days when I will fight you. I can be a little stubborn, you know."

A chuckle.

"You don't have to do this, Bill." Her voice was frail.

"I don't have a choice, Laura." He placed another kiss onto her hair. "I love you too much to let you go." And his voice broke, for the first time. And she didn't have to look up to know that he was crying. _Cry now_, she thought to herself, _just smile for me if I shouldn't be able to smile anymore myself_.

It was a well known secret in the fleet that the President had moved in with the Admiral of the fleet. Their official lives as separate as before on certain levels, they kept their private life completely hidden from the public eye.

Press conferences about political issues usually included questions about Laura Roslin's health and she had learned to maneuver around these questions with a knowing smile.

She never told anybody about the pain – the only person who knew was Bill. And he knew only by looking at her.

The tiny wrinkles around her eyes grew deeper, her smile was more forced in the pictures in the papers and her voice was raw and deep.

She often woke now in the middle of the night – drenched in perspiration. She muffled her screams, but he knew.

He rocked her back to sleep, his eyes, dry now as legendary deserts, never shed a single tear. The only crying he did was deep inside his soul. He would be strong for her, he would be there – and only she was allowed to weep.

They had discussed another transfusion of Hera's blood. She had declined. She didn't want to go through all of this a third time around.

He had accepted it – and she had made him understand.

It was only a few jumps until they would find Earth – they were so certain now and the fleet was cheerful. Only Bill wasn't able to celebrate the greatness of the news.

Laura, drifting in and out of sleep whenever he saw her in sickbay, had been off Diloxin for two weeks now and was heavily medicated. Her complexion, though still beautiful to him, was a mask of pain and drugs. Her skin was pale and gray, her hair damp and clinging to her face.

He held her hand whenever he could, and although she lectured him about it when she was conscious, he left too many of his responsibilities to Tigh.

"I won't let you die alone." He had promised her that.

Spending his nights in sickbay, holding her tight when she pleased so, Bill had grown accustomed to the sounds of monitors and beeping heart rates – and a single change in rhythm woke him from his sleep.

When her heart skipped a beat, he was wide awake within seconds – and he saw suffering mirrored on her face. Squeezing her hand, he tried to ease the pain as best as he could – but when he looked into her eyes he knew that they were both losing the struggle.

"Bill?" Her voice was brittle and faint.

"I am here."

"Don't let them bring me back. Promise me that." She used all her energy to smile at him.

He nodded and kissed her hand.

"Let me go and see Earth for me." A tear ran down her cheek. "And build the cabin by the stream, will you do that for me?"

He nodded again, losing the fight against his own flooded eyes. "I love you, Laura."

"I know." Her voice got weaker. "I love you, too."

Gesturing him to kiss her one last time, Bill followed her wish – and he felt her weakness underneath his touch. He sat next to her, holding onto her hand, helping her through the last merciless struggles she fought against her pain.

Pictures before her eyes – past and present merging into one. Epiphanies overwhelming her, lights blinding – succumbing to the solitude of death.

And then it came – a sound of aching pain, a gasp and the flatline beep. Silence enveloping them.

They were alone again.

**Fin**


End file.
